


An Unexpected Adventure

by Lorbie05



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorbie05/pseuds/Lorbie05
Summary: It should have been an easy class to observe, third year Defence Against the Dark Arts. But when a muggle born student's boggart turned into a Weeping Angel, life at Hogwarts changed dramatically, especially for one Hermione Granger. And as everyone knows, what takes the image of an angel becomes an angel.





	1. 1

For Hermione Jean Granger, life was finally worth living. No more living in the woods. No more being the brains of the Golden Trio. She could just finally breathe. And being able to breathe was something she was looking forward to quite a bit.

Once the dust finally settled, and Voldemort’s body was laying stiff on the floor, Hermione knew she would finally get her life back. She loved Harry like a brother, she truly did, but she knew she was ready for a break after Dumbledore’s ridiculous scavenger hunt. She had stood by The Chosen One through the whole journey, and while she did not regret being there for him, she knew it was not the path she wanted for herself. Of course she was the consummate Gryffindor, brave until the very end, but now she was ready to spend a little time on herself. Be a little selfish. And that meant no more adventures. 

Hermione watched Harry sitting with the Weasley’s. She watched them all, silent tears running down their faces with Fred lying there on the table. If she turned her head just so, it almost looked like he was sleeping, a smile still on his face. It was almost like this was his final gift to them, a peaceful smile and slipping easily into the beyond. But Hermione knew it wasn’t a gift, and much like needing a break from her best friend, she also knew she needed a break from the Weasleys as well. She could not handle the oppressive grief, at least not when she had her own, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but she needed to get away. 

She took a last look at the red headed family and her best friend, and slipped quietly away. No one noticed her, not even Ronald, the boy she had once given her heart to; the boy she had just kissed a few hours ago. Hermione knew the kiss was a mistake. She knew the moment their lips touched. He was another brother, and nothing more. She knew he was not the one after he left that night in the woods. She knew she could never be with someone she could not trust, and by the gods, Ronald Weasley proved to her he would never be trustworthy. So she had let him go and harden her heart. And that worked almost perfectly until they were down in that damn chamber. With her emotions running wild, and the adrenaline of the destroying another Horcrux running through her veins, when Ron leaned forward to kiss her, she let it happen. She may have even responded a bit, which she later realized would just make things that much more difficult.

Hermione knew she needed to go back in the shack. After Harry telling them of his memories, she knew she could not leave his body there alone. That man had been so brave. He was not a nice man, but she knew now he was a brave man, and she could not leave his body in that cold, dirty shack. He deserved more than that, and she decided she would be responsible for him now. Her mind made up, she slipped quietly out the front door and made her way back to the Whomping Willow and to the man left alone in the dark.

***

Hermione crept slowly back up the tunnel toward the shack. The whole walk, she was slowly preparing herself for what she knew she would see. She could already see him, slumped against the wall, blood surrounding him, his eyes staring forward without actually seeing anything. No snarky remarks, no verbal abuse, no nothing. She could almost taste the coppery iron of his blood that she knew was still lingering in the air. She could see the meaty tendons and muscle hanging limply from his neck, and the blood dry and crusty around the snake bites. She knew his already pale skin would be almost translucent with his blood loss. 

Come on Hermione, get it together. You know you can do this. He deserves this, she thought to herself. Hermione had reached the door at the end of the tunnel and gave herself a shake, You’ve got this. She walked through the door and saw him. That’s when she knew that everything she had tried to prepare for was wrong. Everything she had seen in her mind was false. The truth was so much worse than she remembered. He was there, right where they had left him. But how could one body hold so much liquid? She knew somewhere deep in her mind that a body held eight pints of blood, but how could that translate to what she was seeing? She thought she had the smell and taste of that room engrained in her brain. She was wrong again. It was stifling how intense the smell of his blood was. It coated her throat and made her gag. And it wasn’t just the copper she could taste, there was so much more when a soul left a human body. In the several hours since they left him, his body had lost control of his muscles and had expelled his bodily fluids. And that’s when she felt the tears. She didnot even know she was crying, and she could not tell if it was from the smell or the absolute heartbreak of seeing him like this. Worst of all, was the darkness she could still feel. She could feel the lingering effects of dark magic in this room. It was like tendrils of dark energy licking her skin, reminding her that he had lost his life in a tragic way.

Hermione was glad she had come alone. She was glad that no one else would see him like this, and she was glad that she would at least give him the dignity of being presentable in death. With one last shudder to strengthen her resolve, Hermione Granger pushed up her sleeves and got to work. She may not be as good as Molly Weasley when it came to cleaning spells, but she knew she was good enough to take care of him. Her first task was to get rid of all the blood and gore, maybe then she could think properly. 

With quite a few targeted Evanenscos, the floor was slowly losing its red color. As she removed the blood surrounding his body, she did not know if the smell was only in her head or if the room still smelled of his insides. Hermione knew she could have cleaned his body with magic, but somehow that just did not seem right. She conjured herself a bowl of hot, soapy water, scented lightly with sandalwood, and a washcloth. She tried to start at his neck wound, but after hesitating for a seconds, she knew she had to start somewhere else. She lifted his stringy black hair away from his face. It was well past greasy, she thought. She took the washcloth and slowly brought it back and forth across his forehead. Initially, all she accomplished was smearing the dirt around his head. She worked herself into a rhythm, wipe a bit of grime then dip the cloth back into the water. She looked at this like a graph. She divided his face into little squares and worked slowly to remove the dirt coating him. By the time she had cleaned his face, she had changed the water several times. Deep breath, Hermione. Time to get to the difficult parts. With freshwater and a scourgified cloth, she started cleaning under his chin and down his neck. She almost started crying as she brought the cloth over his day old chin hair. It will never grow again, she sniffled. She brought the cloth down his neck to the first set of puncture marks. The blood had crusted around the bite marks, yet it had not scabbed over. Obviously the venom in the snake’s bite had an anticoagulant. She wiped away the dried blood down his neck at the first site and this time, she did not even try to stop her tears. Hermione changed her water and cleaned the cloth again before moving to the next set of puncture marks. This set was much the same as the first, and yet still better than what she knew she had next. With the second set of marks cleaned, she once again tried to center herself before trying to attempt the gaping neck wound. 

Hermione knew she needed more than just her simple bowl of cleansing water and a cloth. She grabbed her wand and used it to spill water into the wound. Once the water leaving his skin was more pink than red, she knew she was ready for the bowl and cloth again. Hermione grabbed the cloth and gently dabbed around the wound. She used her other hand to move the hanging flesh. Years later, Hermione would never be able to explain how she successfully cleaned his wound. Once she was satisfied that his neck was clean, she conjured herself a crescent needle and some medical grade string. She slowly worked both by hand and with her magic, piecing the torn flesh back together. Hermione could not count the minutes or even the hours really. All she knew, was that by time she was satisfied with his stitched up neck, her back was sore, her legs were stiff, and her arms ached. But none of that mattered. All that mattered to her, was that when she finally stood up, the man laying on the floor no longer looked like something from her nightmares. And the reality was, he would become part of her nightmares, she knew that now. 

Hermione knew she was finished, and she imagined someone had to be missing her by now. She could not leave him though. Summing her strength, and trying to find the right memory, Hermione sent her Patronus with a message to Harry to meet her in the shack and to bring others to help. With her message sent, and her energy gone, Hermione sank to the ground, with her head in her hands. Hello old friends, she thought as the tears streamed down her face again. She did not even want to know what she looked like. She was probably still covered in bits of him, and with that sobering thought, she tried to clean herself up as well. Hermione grabbed her bowl and filled it one last time with fresh, clean water, and washed her hands as well. Once she began the process, she could not stop. She was rubbing the cloth back and forth across her face, trying to erase the memories along with the dirt and grime.

That was where Harry found her, sitting on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, with a dirty cloth rubbing her skin raw, while she cried uncontrollably. 

“Hermione, you can stop now,” Harry said while he gently pulled her hands away from her face. Harry took a look around the room while he held her hands. “Did you do this yourself?”

“Of course I did. I couldn’t leave him alone and let anyone else see him the way we did,” she cried. 

Harry stood up and pulled Hermione up with him. Without speaking, he eyed Kingsley and then looked toward the body laying on the floor. Kingsley understood the message, and quickly conjured a stretcher. He levitated the body onto the stretcher and covered him with a white sheet while Harry moved Hermione to the exit of the shack. Harry did not let her look behind them, “Just one foot in front of the other Mione,” he whispered into her ear. 

The four bodies left the Shrieking Shack that night. Three breathing, and one forever still, all of their lives changed completely. One to be buried an unsung hero. One to become Minister of Magic. One to become the greatest Auror of their time. And one to live on to have another great adventure, even if it was completely against her will and wishes.

***

Hermione walked up the front steps to the Hogwarts entrance. Stopping at the top stairs, her hand resting on the door, she took a deep breath. You can do this, Hermione, she whispered to herself. Throwing her shoulders back and lifting her head, she pushed the front door open. Hermione walked into the hall, looking around. Little had changed in the entrance, but so much had changed within her. She looked toward the main staircase and could see Fred and George flying down on their grand exit. She blinked, and could see Fred’s face, frozen in his last smile, just a corridor away. Hermione blinked and looked the other way. She looked toward where she knew the hospital wing was. She had spent a lot of time down that wing, not too long ago. Not only had she had her own recovery time in that wing, after she was healed, she stayed on to help Madam Pomfrey tend to the many other injured witches and wizards. 

Hermione had never thought about a career in healing, but after helping in the hospital wing, she knew that was her future. And in order to make her future a reality, she knew she needed to come back to Hogwarts and finish her seventh year. It had been a fight between her best friends. They had never understood her desire for schooling. Once Kingsley had offered them a chance to become Aurors, both boys had jumped at the chance. After immediately saying yes, they both looked to Hermione with expectant eyes. It almost broke her heart to tell them no. But she knew she could not continue their lifestyle. She could not be the one chasing down the bad guys. For once she wanted to be the one in the background. Doing her duty without the glory. She wanted to be normal.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn’t hear Professor McGonagall calling her name.

“Hermione dear, did you hear me?” the head mistress asked.

“I’m sorry professor, I was far away in my own thoughts,” Hermione replied. “You were saying?”

“It’s quite alright, my dear. I just was saying hello. Are you ready for the coming year?”

“I hope so,” Hermione said, trying to show her favorite professor and mentor she was better than the last time they had met. “I just hope I’m making the right choice, coming back I mean.”

“Hermione, you and I both know the life of an Auror is not for you. You are where you belong. Hogwarts needs you just as much as you need it,” she said with a smile. “Now come, let's get you out of the cold entry way and into your new chambers. 

Hermione was one of a handful of students returning to take their 7th year. Because there were so few returners, and because they were all legally adults, Professor McGonagall along with the other returning professors thought it would be better to house the students in their own chambers. Hogwarts was large enough that they could actually have their own wing. These student would all be coming in before term officially started. Part of their being able to return to school was taking on a teacher’s assistant position. Going into the medi-field, required the core classes for NEWTS. Hermione knew she could pass all of her NEWTS with an “O” except Defence Against the Dark Arts. She almost laughed every time she thought about struggling in that class. It was ridiculous if you asked her. She was part of the the damn Golden Trio for gods sake, she helped defeat the most evil wizard in their lifetime, and yet she knew without a doubt that she would struggle on the DADA NEWT. It was that reason, and that reason alone that she requested being the DADA teacher’s assistant. She knew she had her work cut out for her, but she needed top marks. She needed to break away from the Golden Trio. She needed to be more than just the muggle born best friend of Harry Potter. She needed to be more than just the one that got away from Ron Weasley. She needed to be Hermione Granger, the best student Hogwarts had seen, and if she had it her way, she would be.

***

Hermione was going through her trusty beaded bag, placing the items she had meticulously packed around her room when she heard a knock on her door. Placing the bag down, Hermione exited her bed room and headed to her living area. Keeping her wand held tightly in her hand, Hermione slowly opened her door. “Harry, what are you doing here?” she asked the bespectacled boy standing outside her door. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. You left without really saying anything, and I was worried.”

“You don’t have to worry Harry, I’m where I need to be -”

“But what about you and Ron?” Harry asked.

“What about us? I know I made myself clear after the meeting with Kingsley.”

“Yeah, but,”

“No buts, Harry. I can’t follow the two of you into the ministry. I can’t be the brains of the Golden Trio anymore. I need to figure out what I want, and while I don’t know what that is yet, I know it’s not wasting more of my life chasing the bad guys!”

“But I’ll miss you, Ron will miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you as well, but I need to live my own life now Harry. I don’t want to be an Auror, that’s not going to make me happy. And I can’t be the perfect housewife for Ron. You know I can never measure up to Molly, and we all know that’s what Ron wants. Trust me Harry, this is for the best. The two of you can start your journey and not have to worry about me. I can start my life again here, at Hogwarts, my only home now.”

“What will I do without you beside me to tell me when I’m wrong? Who’s going to tell me to keep going? How can I keep going without you Mione?” Harry cried.

“I’ll always be in your corner Harry. You know if you need me, I’ll be there. But honestly, this is a good thing. I want to learn how to save people Harry, not just capture people.”

Even though Harry knew what she was the truth, it did not mean he wanted to believe it. Harry knew he could count on Ron, but he also knew that Hermione was his rock, and just maybe he was not ready to really take a step out on his own. 

“You’re right Mione,” Harry said. “I know this is the place for you. And who knows, maybe your training will come in use. I mean, I will probably need someone to fix my cuts and bruises after all the tough cases I’ll get.”

“Of course you will, although how that will be any different than the last seven years, I don’t know,” Hermione laughed. “Seriously Harry, I’ll be right here for you whenever you need. You’re my best friend, and the most important person to me now. I wouldn’t even be standing in the room, let alone the castle again, if you hadn’t picked me up off the floor of the shack a few months ago.”

“You know I wouldn’t leave you there, and you know I couldn’t leave him there either. What you did that night was probably one of the bravest things I’ve encountered, and we spent the whole last year in hell.”

“I know Harry, and I’ll be forever grateful to you for that night,” Hermione said gently.

“And I’ll be forever grateful to you for me even being able to walk and breathe. We’ll make it through this, right? We’ll be able to walk different paths and still be best friends, right Mione?”

“Of course,” Hermione said. “Nothing could take me away from your friendship, Harry James Potter. You’re stuck with me.

“Good. Because Merlin only knows what I would do without you. I’m not sure I can handle it,” Harry said, shaking his head slightly. And with that proclamation, Harry James Potter, the Chosen One, took one last look at his best friend, gave her a hug, and walked out the door to his future as an Auror. If Harry had known at that moment that that would be the last time he looked in his best friend’s eyes, he would have held her longer, he would have made the time to stay, he would have told her he loved her. But Harry was not a seer, he did not know the future, and he did not know that Hermione’s life would change forever.

Harry walked out of the castle, whistling slightly to himself, while Hermione went back to setting up her room. She hummed slightly to herself, while she created piles of items to be placed in her room and what needed to stay on her person at all times. Yes, Hermione might have told her best friend and even herself that she wanted to concentrate on her new, villain free life, but she was a realist, and she knew that her little beaded bag would be on her at all times, packed with the most essential items for survival. War had changed her, and she would never be unprepared again.


	2. 2

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror critically. Hair, still a curly mess, but at least contained. Eyes, a little dull, but isn’t everyone else’s? Standard Hogwarts uniform, neatly pressed with crisp pleats like normal, check. Black outer robes with the Hogwarts crest, double check. Although it’s definitely different than the Gryffindor Lion that I have worn for six years. Merlin, am I really ready to start this day, she thought. It was September 1st, and the new term was beginning today. The students were all on the Hogwarts Express and making their way slowly up the Scottish countryside. Hermione, along with the other returning eighth years and teachers were all preparing themselves for the arrival of the other castle inhabitants. While everyone was a little on edge, Hermione thought she was almost too overwhelmed. I can do this, she thought. I helped defeat Voldemort, what’s going back to school and student teaching? It will be just like tutoring. Hermione knew she had to get rid of some of her pent up energy, so she did the only thing she really knew how to do. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and walked out of her bedroom and through her sitting room. When in doubt, go to the Library, Hermione nodded to herself.

“Hermione, wait!” Hermione heard from down the hallway. 

She stopped and turned around, “Hello, Charlie, or should I say Professor Weasley?”

“Just Charlie is fine. You’ve known me for years, and I don’t even know how I’m going to handle the students calling me Professor Weasley. And besides, we’ll be working together closely now anyway.”

“Yes, I honestly didn’t know who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be, but I am certainly glad that it’s you.”

“And I’m glad that it is you that will be my student assistant,” he said. “I could have really gotten the short end of the stick. Now at least I know work will get done.”

At that, Hermione gave him her best glare, “Charlie, you do realize I will not do all your work, right?”

“You know I’m not my brother, right?” He shot back at her. “All I meant was that I think we’ll work well together.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I just am trying to turn over a new leaf.”

“New leaf? And what does that mean?”

“I just need something different than what my life has been for the last several years,” Hermione said. “I want to focus on my life, instead of the war, and I really don’t want to be one third of the Golden Trio. I want to be Hermione Granger, returning student, and aspiring Medi-Witch.”

“I think that is a good idea, Hermione, and I stand behind that. Besides, we’ll throw in some fun for you as well. You know I won’t let you be so serious all the time.”

“If there’s anything I know about you Charlie, it’s that Fred and George got their antics from you, so I only expect you to live up to their legacy.”

“Their legacy? I’m the older one. They needed to live up to my legacy!”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Hermione said slyly. “I’m on my way to the library, did you want to come with me, or do you have something else you need to do?”

“Hermione, I am not going anywhere near that library until I have to, and I encourage you to do the same. Honestly, what could you seriously need now? The term hasn’t even started yet.”

“I just need some normalcy, and the library does that for me.”

“What happened to turning a new leaf? You should mingle with the other returning students and teachers. We’re all meeting in the staff lounge now. I was actually on my way to come get you anyway.”

“Oh, well, yes. That sounds like a good idea. A new leaf, right, that’s what I want with my life.” And with her mind made up to follow Charlie, Hermione continued down the hallway and to the staff room. This is a good idea, and a step in the right direction to having a normal life and a normal year, she thought to herself.

***

The start of term feast was just like she remembered. Hermione sat at a special table in the front of the Great Hall with the other returning eighth years. The table was placed in front of the staff table but on the main dining floor instead of being raised up on the dias. Each returning student was sitting in front of the professor they were assigned to. Neville Longbottom sat at one end, placed in front Professor Sprout, the Herbology Professor. Anthony Goldstein sat in front of Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor. Hermione sat in front of Professor Weasley, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Parvati Patil sat in front of Professor Trelawney, the Divination Professor. And Draco Malfoy sat in front of Professor Slughorn, the Potions Professor. Hermione watched as Professor McGonagall stood up to address the group of students.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Our theme this year is ‘A New Beginning,’ and we intend to do just that. One of the ways we are changing this year is the students you see sitting in front of you. This year, we have several former students returning to Hogwarts to finish their schooling. Part of their requirements to returning is to assist a professor of their choice. Along with their NEWT level classes, these students will partake in several of the lower year classes. You will see them in your classes, and I trust you will treat them with the same respect your afford to your teachers. Along with assisting your professors during classes, they will also maintain group office hours. For two hours after dinner, these students will be in an empty classroom for your benefit. If you find yourself with questions regarding your classes, this would be a perfect opportunity to seek help. Please remember, they will also have their own classwork to do, so please be mindful of that as well. I believe that is all for now, so let the feast begin.”

As Professor McGonagall clapped her hands, all of Hogwart’s best food popped onto the table. As much as Hermione still believed the elves deserved more than indentured slavery, she still marveled at their abilities to provide for the whole Great Hall. Digging into her dinner, Hermione was glad that she had decided to come back to Hogwarts. She knew she had made the right decision and she was ready to start the term.

***

Several weeks had passed since the welcoming feast, and Hermione, along with the whole school had gotten into a routine. She relished being on a schedule again. After months on the run, and then her own healing time, Hermione forgot how peaceful following a schedule was. Even though she had initially told Charlie that she would not do his work for him, she still created all his time tables and class schedules. She knew she was better organized than him, and really it benefited both her and the classes for her to do the schedules. Hermione was sitting on her red Queen Anne chair reviewing her plans for the day. Even though she was no longer considered a Gryffindor, she couldn’t help the deep desire to keep her surroundings red. Hermione looked at her first block of the day which was third year DADA with the Gryffindor’s. I’m so glad we’re doing boggarts this lesson. She knew she was more than qualified to help Charlie with the lesson. She had changed completely since the first time she faced the boggart in her own DADA class with Remus. Although she had performed abysmally that year, she still smiled fondly at the thought of Remus working with her to overcome her fears. Out of all the casualties of the war, he was on the list of people she missed the most. Remus had always been the one adult in their life that they knew they could trust explicitly, and Hermione tried every day to model her teaching style after him. Whenever she caught herself getting too uptight, or too intense in a class, she’d think to herself, What would Remus do (W.W.R.D?) and take a breath and start again. She found herself taking a lot of deep breaths to regroup. If the students noticed this, she was thankful they did not mention it. Although she supposed that many people had little quirks and routines now after the war. Maybe she was achieving her dream of normalcy after all. 

Hermione packed up her things for class and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She had long gotten past her nervousness of teaching and now had no issues eating a hearty breakfast before starting her day. And really, after nearly starving herself for a year, just being able to eat at every meal was slowly losing its novelty, and for that she was grateful. The formality of the seating arrangements for the eighth years had also laxed. Hermione sat down next to Neville. “Good morning, Neville,” she said while taking a piece of bacon off of his plate.

“Gosh Hermione, did you wake up and forget who you are this morning? I didn’t know Ron Weasley was here today,” he laughed.

“Ha Ha, you’re so funny. No, I’m just in a good mood, and it looked good. We’re doing boggarts today in DADA class, and it reminded me of Remus. I always smile when I think of him and everything he taught me, and I just really want to make him proud, ya know?” 

“He was definitely the best DADA professor we ever had, and if anyone can emulate him, I know it will be you, Hermione,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Neville. I’m definitely trying. I wish I was a natural at this field like you are in yours.”

“Hermione, you are doing wonderful,” Neville said, as he placed his hand on her arm. “I know Charlie would tell you the moment he believed you were slacking in your abilities, and Merlin knows that day will never come. I think your schedules have schedules,” he laughed.

“They do not!” Hermione exclaimed while Neville tried to defend himself from her smacks. “I am not that bad.”

“If you say so. But it’s not like you being overly prepared is a bad thing. You being prepared turned the tide in the light’s favor during the war, and I can guarantee it kept Harry alive while you were on the run.” Placing his hand back on her arm, Neville looked Hermione in the eye. “Embrace this part of you Hermione, because no matter how much you think you’re changing yourself, I’m pretty sure the world would stop turning if Hermione Granger didn’t have a plan and five different ways to execute it.”

“Thank you, Neville,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here with me this year. I think coming back to Hogwarts would have been much more difficult if I didn’t have your support here.”

“And I’m glad you’re here too, Hermione. Now, let me get back to my bacon before breakfast is done and I have to make the long trek out to the greenhouses.”

“Ok, I should go over my notes for today’s lesson again anyway.”

“Of course you should,” Neville muttered, but Hermione was already engrossed in her notes and did not notice his teasing comment. Hermione was so absorbed in her notes for that day’s DADA class that she barely noticed the end of the breakfast block. After a quick poke in the side from Neville to get her attention, Hermione quickly gathered her belongings and made her way to the third floor. She could be heard mumbling quietly to herself the whole walk with words like “new leaf, changes, schedules, and I’ll show them,” floating softly behind her.


	3. 3

Hermione sat perched on a desk at the front of the classroom with a box shaking ominously next to her. Her third year Gryffindors walked slowly into the room, eyeing the box with quite a bit of suspicion and just enough caution to wonder what they were facing today. While most of the attention was on Hermione and the shaking box, Charlie took the moment to address the group from the back of the classroom.  
  
"Good morning Gryffindors!" Charlie exclaimed, causing the group to startle and swing their heads to the back of the classroom. "As you can see, Hermione and I have a huge surprise for you. Obviously today will be a practical lesson. Please set your things down somewhere in the perimeter of the room while I move the desks out of the way as well." At Charlie's command, the group of third years hurried to the sides of the classroom, keeping one eye on the shaking box and another eye on the moving desks. While most of the students adored both Charlie and Hermione, they knew Charlie was a little restless, and quite honestly, a little crazy. No one wrestled dragons for fun without being a little unhinged. It was with those thoughts in mind that the students tried to avoid the moving furniture.  
  
As soon as the main part of the room was cleared, Charlie called the class back to attention. "Alright class, who read the next chapter in your books after last week's class?" At his question, several students raised their hands. "Ok, good," Charlie smiled. "Now, who can tell me what's in the box?" Charlie asked as the box gave another violent shake. A small girl with curly blonde hair raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Calloway?" he asked.  
  
"It's a boggart," she exhaled softly, her eyes wide with fear.  
  
"Yes, you're absolutely correct. 5 points to Gryffindor. And who can tell me what a boggart is?" The questions and answers continued, and Hermione felt herself strangely content at how close to her original class lecture today was turning out to be. While she could see the apprehension still on a few of the student's faces, she could also see determination and the famed Gryffindor courage as well. "Alright class, Hermione and I will be standing by to help if needed. This is not required, but any student may take a chance and face the boggart. Please line up when you're ready."  
  
Hermione watched the whole group get into the line. Typical Gryffindors, she thought to herself. She wasn't surprised that they all wanted to try to face the boggart. She knew her whole class got in the line as well. Hermione stood on the right side of the box, with Charlie standing on the left. Once the first person in line was ready, her wand held tightly in her hand and her body in the correct stance, Charlie nodded at Hermione to release the boggart. With a quick swish and a silent Alohomora, the box slowly opened as Miss Calloway stepped forward. Mist streamed out of the box, making it difficult to see. _Click… Click… Click_ could be heard. Miss Calloway tightened her hold on her wand, looking around. Hermione stiffened from her relaxed position on the desk, ready to step in if needed. She noticed that Charlie had done the same, and was ready and waiting as well. As the clicks echoed through the classroom, distorted by the mist, Hermione was nervously waiting to see what Miss Calloway's deepest fear was.  
  
Just as Hermione was about to intervene, she heard a loud shriek and crash. Hermione could not believe her eyes. _She must be a muggleborn_ , Hermione thought. No child growing up with magical parents would even know what that is. Standing before Miss Calloway was an eight foot tall Velociraptor, its eyes gleaming with intelligence, and its long curved nails clicking on the stone floor. Hermione did not know who was more scared, the muggleborn children that obviously knew what was standing before them, or the magical born children that just saw a giant creature with sharp teeth and nails. "Come on Miss Calloway. Remember your lesson. What do you do next?" Hermione asked. She watched as the girl straightened her spine and raised her chin.  
  
"Riddikulus!" she yelled pointing her wand at the large carnivore. Seconds later and with a loud crack, the Velociraptor stood there with bright pink polish on its claws, a multicolored party hat, pompom and feathers included, and a set of dentures which promptly fell out of its mouth and bounced along the floor. The Velociraptor tried to grab the dentures, but because of its short arms and longer body, could only flail around wildly while kicking them further away. The class laughed loudly, which confused the boggart.  
  
"Excellent job, Miss Calloway! Next person" Charlie shouted. A tall boy with brown, shaggy hair came to the front of the classroom. The Velociraptor took one look at the boy and with a loud crack, changed into a big pile of Devil's Snare. The long tendrils and vines started reaching for the boy. Without missing a beat, the boy yelled "Riddikulus." Crack. The vines were now tying themselves in knots, unable to move closer to him.  
  
"Next!" yelled Charlie. One by one, the students took their turn in front of the boggart. There was an old crone with a cackling laugh, quite a few spiders skittering around the room, a larger viper type snake, and even a little street dancing monkey with dark eyes and sharp teeth. The students were going through their biggest fears and faced the boggart with the courage of their house. Hermione was so impressed with their third years. One student was left in line, and Hermione could tell that he was really nervous.  
  
"You can do this, Stanley" Hermione whispered into his ear. He had become a favorite for her from the very first class. He actually reminded her of Neville in his early years. He was shy and reserved. He never really understood how he ended up in Gryffindor. Hermione knew he was made for great things, and because of that, she continuously encouraged him.  
  
Stanley took his place in front of the boggart, and it immediately turned into a life size, stone angel. The angel was white with Victorian style draping clothes. Its hands were up covering its face, with its head down almost like it was crying. It reminded Hermione of the many stone angels in some of the old cemeteries. Stanley stood still, eyes open, skin almost as pale as the stone angel. Hermione looked from Stanley to the angel and back again. The angel did not move, did not make a nose, did not do anything. She could not understand why Stanley was so afraid, and yet afraid he was.  
  
"Stanley, it's just a statue. Why are you so afraid of it, and how can we make it funny?" Hermione asked him.  
  
"It's not just a statue," He whispered. "It's a Weeping Angel."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand, what's a Weeping Angel?" Hermione asked while walking up to the stone statue. "It doesn't look dangerous to me," she said as she reached forward to touch the hands. "I'm sure we can make –" and before she could finish her sentence, she was gone. Zapped out of the room like she had never been there.  
Stanley choked out a quiet "no," before Charlie jumped in front of the statue and the boggart changed into an angry werewolf.  
  
"Riddikulus," Charlie said and the boggart finally exploded. "What the heck just happened?" Charlie turned around toward the now crying student. "Where did Hermione go?" The boy just stood there with tears running down his cheeks.  
  
"She's gone, Professor Weasley," he cried. "She's gone, and she's never coming back."  
  
***  
  
Hermione Granger took a deep breath in and looked around. What the heck just happened? She knew she was in Hogwarts, because she recognized the entrance hall, but how did she get from the DADA classroom to the front doors? And why were these students staring at her? And most importantly, why didn't she know anyone around her? As all these thoughts and questions ran through her head, she knew she was in trouble when she saw him walking down across the hallway, obviously coming from the hospital wing. Stringy black hair, large crooked nose, skin so pale he looked almost like a ghost. Almost as if he could feel her eyes locked onto him, he looked up. Now it was her chance to turn white. She lost all of her color and just before she hit the ground, Hermione had one last thought. Severus Snape is walking by me. He's alive, and he's still a student. And then her mind went blank.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, an update?!?! I know many of you thought I had abandoned this fic, but I assure you that is not the case. Writing an epic length time travel piece is turning out to be much harder than I originally thought. I've been sitting on half of this chapter for much longer than I should have. Enjoy this chapter, and know that going forward, we'll be back in time and getting to the good stuff. Thank you for following!

**Hogwarts 1998**

“Class dismissed,” Charlie barked at the stunned third years. They obviously knew something was incredibly wrong, but they didn’t want their professor’s anger pointed toward them as well. As the class took their hasty retreat, Charlie had begun to run diagnostic spells throughout the classroom. He went through his extensive knowledge of spells, even trying a few experimental ones. “Damnit!” Charlie yelled.

“Professor Weasley, what is the matter? Why did I just see your whole third year Gryffindors run from the classroom?” 

Charlie turned from his pacing throughout the classroom to see McGonagall standing in the doorway. He stared at her for a moment before his thoughts caught up with his mouth. “She’s gone, Minerva. She’s gone, and I can’t figure out what happened or how.”

“Who’s gone?” Minerva asked.

“Hermione,” he exclaimed. “We were doing the boggart lesson, and everything was going as planned. The students were great. And then all of a sudden Stanley O’Malley took his turn. The boggart turned into this giant stone angel. One second Hermione was there, trying to help Mr. O’Malley find a way to make the boggart amusing, and the next second she was gone and the boy was crying.”

“She couldn’t just disappear, Charlie,” she said.

“I know what I saw, Minerva. The whole class saw it. And I haven’t seen fear like Mr. O’Malley had since last year during the final battle. I’ve run every diagnostic spell I can think of, and she’s not here. She’s gone. There’s nothing.”

Not believing him, Minerva started to cast her own diagnostic spells. “I can see that she was here, no longer than ten minutes ago, but then it’s like her magical signature is just gone. It does not make sense,” she muttered to herself. She cast spell after spell, each becoming more difficult, and yet each giving her the same result. “She really is gone,” Minerva whispered as she looked at Charlie.

“How do we find her,” Charlie asked.

“I do not know, Charlie, but I will find out.”

***

Ten minutes later, Minerva had the rest of the teaching staff, along with the eighth year students settled in her office. “Thank you for getting here quickly. We have a situation that needs everyone’s attention. As you can see, we are missing someone currently.” She waited a moment while the staff looked around her office. Minerva could see the exact moment when they realized who was missing. 

“Where’s Hermione?” Neville asked.

Before Minerva could answer, an elegant envelope appeared suddenly onto her desk with a flash of phoenix fire. She could see her name written neatly in Hermione’s script. Minevra grabbed the envelope with shaking hands and did a quick diagnostic spell to make sure it was from Hermione. Opening the envelope, Minerva read the letter out loud to the group:

_Good Morning Minerva,_

_I hope this finds you well. I realize you and Charlie must be going crazy right now, but please do not worry about me. It has been less than half an hour since you last saw me, but it has been many years for me. I miss all of you so much, and I truly cannot wait to see you again. Before that happens, you must learn about the angel and their history. She is at the root of this, and I cannot return until you do. It took me much longer than it should to realize what had happened to me._

_Minerva, Charlie, you must contact a man. His name is The Doctor. He is not magical, nor is he a Muggle, but he will be able to help you. Find him. Also, Minerva, check your desk. First drawer on the right, and look closely at the picture._

_Please know, I thought I could make changes to the timeline, but I was wrong. Please do not be angry with me. I could not save everyone. Really I could only save one person, and even him I was not able to save from any of the pain I knew he went through._

_Look at the picture Minerva, and remember. The spell should break once you look at it._

_I miss you more than I can say, and I cannot wait to see you and everyone else again. Give my love to everyone._

_With Love,_

_Hermione J. Snape_

In the silence that followed the reading of the letter, Minerva slowly opened the desk drawer. There, sitting on top of everything like it had always been there, was a simple silver picture frame. With a small gasp, she grabbed the picture frame from the drawer. “How could I have forgotten?” she whispered. 

“Minerva,what is it?” Charlie asked while reaching for the picture.

“It’s her wedding day,” she whispered. “I remember now,” Minerva said while looking at Charlie.

There in Minerva’s hands, for the room to see, stood Hermione Jean Granger, arm in arm with a smiling Severus Snape. Even though he was nearly twenty years younger, the group could obviously recognize the deceased hero. The couple was smiling toward the camera, sure in their happiness with a younger Minerva McGonagall and Alastor Moody smiling behind them.

“Oh that girl, when I see her again,” Minerva muttered. “You all heard what she said. We must find this Doctor person and get our girl back.” She looked to her staff and eighth years and barked, “Well what are you waiting for?”

Minerva looked down at the photograph while her staff left her office and smiled. “You clever girl. Of course you saved him.” She shook her head while placing the photograph on her desktop. “We’ll get you back, my dear. We’ll get both of you back.”


End file.
